


Dinner

by alexiel_neesan



Series: The Robins [3]
Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Dinner, Gen, Haircuts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 13:26:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexiel_neesan/pseuds/alexiel_neesan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> In which The Robins have dinner, and bits of conversations.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted a Quentin Tarantino-style conversation piece - this is not it.

"I'm thinking of cutting my hair."

Steph's voice and the non sequitur it carried cut through the sluggy rumble of the diner. The boys' broken conversation stopped and she found herself to be their center of attention.

They had found a hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant, with real chairs and big round tables, and huge plates of pasta dripping in tomato and meat sauce and fresh salad. Dick was sitting between Tim and Jason, Damian between Steph and Jason. They did notice they had usual seating positions, did try to change them. They only changed when something was wrong though.

"Why would you cut your hair?" asked Damian. His clothes were getting a bit too small for him. He was still about a size or two off from Tim's clothes.

"I like your hair!" said Dick, and he was a bit scruffy. It didn't really suit him. He looked better freshly shaved. And also freshly out of the shower, with or without towel, but Steph didn't allow herself to pursue that thought further.

Tim and Jason frowned their interrogations. Tim's hair was getting a bit too long too. Jason had tape around the raw digits of his left hand —in a fit of what they all agreed on to be Jason's own brand of humor, he had written 'DEAD' on it in black pen.

"I feel like a change," answered Stephanie, and she leaned on Tim, ruffling his hair. "You could use a haircut too, boyfriend wonder."

Tim frowned further, making her giggle. "No way, I look like I'm still sixteen enough as it is." Dick laughed at that, gripped Tim's neck lightly, said but _I like the way you look Tim_ with a long emphasize on the m, making it sound for two heartbeats longer.

Jason rolled his eyes. So did Damian.

They would have said something about not doing stuff like this at table, a few months ago. They had been living with each other for a long time now. It got easier, and harder all the same. They knew how they slept, how they breathed, how they hurt, and when to talk. Now they also knew when a gig was right, when the music became more, when the evening was going to end in separate places to go back to the road in the morning. They knew when a song was going to come right from under Tim's hand, when a note would be the right one when Dick would sing it, when Damian needed to be hugged despite the threats of dismemberment, when Alfred needed a day off from babysitting them, when Jason would be back with LPs and crazy stuff and less shadows in his eyes after pulling a disappearing act, when Steph wanted her night off and no brother on her back.

She remembered reading, as she laughed with her family and tried to avoid stains on her sweater, that people cut their hair at important moment of their existences. She couldn't remember it exactly, it also talked about grieving and funeral rites in tribes in Asia or Africa or something altogether.

Jason was giving Dick hell for his ponytail haircut. "...no really, what the hell were you thinking Starwing? The disco costume was bad enough as it was."

Dick chewed for a bit, thoughtfully. "If I said 'Kory', how bad would that make me look?"

Jason shook his head.

"I have pictures," Tim assured Damian, to the latter's horrified expression.

Dick complained. Steph laughed.

She remembered her mother cutting her hair in the kitchen before she went to elementary school for the first time. She remembered cutting her hair the second night she was Spoiler, when bits of her cowl and the hair below had burned.

"I can't believe we're having a conversation about hair," said Jason. The scar on his neck, mirror to the one on Tim's, moved as he swallowed sauce-dripping pasta, red streaks on his lips.

"Admit it, it's not the weirdest conversation topic we have had," she said. Tim and Dick laughed.

They had been living with each other for almost too long now. So much changed, for bad, for good, maybe. They hadn't stopped crying, and grieving, and mourning their losses. But it felt like things would go right, now.

Facing their future. It was as good a moment to cut her hair as any.

end. 


End file.
